Flu for Two
by Mymomomo
Summary: "What are we supposed to do now? The both of us have never been sick at the same time." "Let's hope we don't die, then." Kind of a continuation of 'A Not So Common Cold'


"Promise me you'll stay in bed today," Ichigo said as he shrugged on a blazer.

Toushiro rolled his eyes and pushed back into the pillows resting against the headboard. "I'll try."

"Shiro, you won't get better if you don't rest."

"You're forcing me to stay home, what choice do I have?" He said with a huff.

Ichigo grinned, pecked him on his warm, sweaty forehead, and grabbed his briefcase from the floor. Toushiro stroked the white cat curled up on his lap with a lethargic arm.

"I'm going to be home a bit late today; we have PTA meetings, so don't even think about cooking dinner."

"Yeah, yeah just leave already; you're going to be late."

Toushiro had gotten a very bad bought of the flu. He had been insisting for the past couple of days that there was nothing wrong with him. He had a sore throat and a slight cough, but didn't seem sick otherwise, so Ichigo let it pass. Until that morning when he threw up and Ichigo found out that he had a fever. If he had rested in the first place he wouldn't have gotten sick to the point of throwing up, but Toushiro liked to believe that he didn't get sick so had decided that he was fine until his body rebelled.

Ichigo knew that he should have stayed home to make sure that Toushiro rested. He knew of the small captain's aversion to rest and relaxation very well and could not shake the feeling that he was still going to force himself to work. He had told Rangiku earlier that morning that if she saw Toushiro she was to send him back home. And despite calling his boyfriend every chance he could, he had a sinking suspicion that Toushiro wasn't resting at all. It was the longest day he had ever been through.

The lack of big, black dog licking his face when he got home was the first sign that something was wrong. The second was the spotless kitchen and missing rug from the living room. The third was the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Ichigo swore softly; his boyfriend could _not_ possibly be giving the dog a bath while he had the flu. He sighed heavily and opened the bathroom door wide enough so he could slip through.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Toushiro had Olaf pinned in the bathtub, half submerged in soapy water himself, holding the dog's collar in one hand and scrubbing the daylight out of him with the other. Olaf was fussy when it came to baths, as all dogs were, but gave minimal resistance only if someone took a 'bath' with him.

"He got into something outside," Toushiro said. His voice was considerably hoarser than it was this morning and he also sounded congested. "I don't know what it was, but it reeked. He got it all over the kitchen and living room. Thankfully he didn't touch the couch or get into the bedroom. So, I had to clean the entire kitchen and living room, scrub the rug, and now I'm bathing this monster."

Ichigo sighed, "So, you didn't get any rest at all?"

"How could I? This dog is worse than five children put together."

Olaf licked his face. Toushiro sighed and slowly massaged a thick lather along his shoulders and back. Ichigo twisted his mouth at Toushiro's flushed face and red-rimmed eyes. He was also leaning heavily against the dog and his frown spoke of something other than annoyance.

"Shiro..."

"What? You expected me to leave whatever shit that was all over the house? You're-" he suddenly convulsed, looking like he was going to throw up and covered his mouth with a soapy hand. He was still for a few seconds, breathing heavily, before gagging again and leaping from the bathtub and scrambling to the toilet, splashing water and dog-shampoo everywhere. He retched into the bowl and Ichigo placed a palm on his wet and surprisingly warm back. He caught Olaf ready to jump out of the tub as well and told him to stay with a firm voice.

"Shiro, you need to get to bed," he murmured, noticing that he was trembling, and smoothed a few clumps of wet hair from his forehead. "Look, this is not doing you any good. I'll finish up in here." He handed Toushiro a towel.

Toushiro said nothing as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then took the towel from Ichigo and wrapped it around his shoulders. Ichigo gently nudged him towards the door and he huffed before shuffling out. Ichigo turned to the dog still sitting in the tub with his head cocked and sighed.

"Alright, Olaf, let's get this over with."

He was still in his work clothes so he quickly stripped down to his underwear and resumed soaping up the dog. Olaf only tired to escape around fifteen times before Ichigo ended up sitting in the tub with him and rinsed the soap from his fur. Drying him wasn't any easier because he wanted to play tug-of-war with the towel, but eventually Ichigo got him dry enough that he wouldn't ruin the house (again) and set him free. He bounded off like a puppy to god alone knows where. Ichigo sighed and used a clean towel to dry his hair then headed to the bedroom to check on Toushiro.

He was curled up on the bed, seeming to have passed out as soon as he got there, because the towel was still wrapped around his shoulders and his skin was still damp. He smiled and shook his head in exasperation and pulled out a pair of his pyjamas from the chest of drawers. Toushiro stirred when Ichigo patted his shoulder but he didn't stay awake for long and dozed off right after he removed the wet towel from around him.

"Shiro, come on; you have to change," Ichigo chuckled and pulled him into a seated position.

He moved like his body was boneless and slumped against Ichigo's chest, mumbling something incoherent. The redhead frowned, his body felt way too hot to mean anything good. He glanced at the pyjamas and wonder if he shouldn't choose something lighter. Either way he didn't need a thermometer to tell that Toushiro had a very high fever.

After a bit more prodding he got Toushiro to wake up fully and pull on an over-sized t-shirt. He sat grumpily on the edge of the bed and watched as Ichigo changed into his night clothes and sat down next to him.

"Well you're fever's worse than it was this morning," he sighed, placing his hand across Toushiro's forehead. "I'm not even surprised at that. Bathing the dog? Really?"

Toushiro rolled his eyes.

"How are you feeling though?"

"Like shit; everything hurts."

"Have you even had dinner yet?" Ichigo sighed.

"No," Toushiro coughed, "I'll probably just throw it up anyway."

Ichigo patted his head gently and headed to the kitchen.

"Feed the animals while you're there," Toushiro mumbled before he crawled under the covers and pulled them around him so that only the top of his head could be seen.

Toushiro was cute when he was miserable; Ichigo thought as he opened a can of tomato soup and poured it into a pot. He rarely got sick, but seeing him in such a helpless state struck something in Ichigo. He wasn't glad that his boyfriend was sick, gods no, but it wasn't often that he got to take care of him.

Olaf and Ellie met him in the kitchen, reminding him that they too needed dinner. He watched the pot on the stove begin to boil and noticed a dull pressure behind his eyes. He hoped he was not getting sick as well, but he knew the signs of the flu. He'd take some medicine before he went to bed and see how things went from there.

Once dinner was finished he poked Toushiro awake again. The small _shinigami_ groused through every mouthful but Ichigo sat next to him and made sure he ate every single drop. He passed out again as soon as Ichigo gave him two pills, nestling into the pillows and pulling the sheets up to his chin. Ichigo curled up next to him and only grumbled slightly when he felt the Ellie knead the pillow next to his head and Olaf took up residence at his feet.

...

Ichigo woke up some time during the night. His vision was hazy and he could not make out the numbers on the digital clock on the nightstand. But, he knew that he was sick. His joints hurt, his throat felt like sand paper, and his nose was stuffed. He raised and hand to his face and rubbed his aching temples. He groaned softly.

"What's wrong?" Toushiro slurred, jolting awake.

"Think I caught your flu," he mumbled.

"Sorry."

"I'll live. Go back to sleep."

Toushiro mumbled and rolled into Ichigo's chest. The redhead threw an aching arm around his shoulders and let himself drift back to sleep. He woke with a start what felt like a few seconds later, but the room was flooded with morning light. He blinked a few times; his head was spinning slightly and sharp pains ran through his joints. He craned his neck to read the clock.

9:00am.

Shit, he overslept; his first class was already done and over with. He covered his face with his hands and let out a groan. The noise that escaped his throat sounded like he was dying then turned into a cough to add to his frustration.

"Stop it," Toushiro snapped softly. Ichigo cracked open an eye and saw his boyfriend entering the room with two steaming mugs, one in either hand. "I called in sick for you, so don't even start your complaining. If I have to stay home so do you." He was still congested, his nose was an angry shade of red, and he had a fleece blanket thrown around his shoulders.

Ichigo pushed himself up and took the cup that Toushiro offered him. He was about to drink but then realised that it was oatmeal, probably cinnamon brown sugar because that was his favourite flavour, but he couldn't smell a thing; his damn nose was blocked. He sniffed, trying to clear it, but that only seemed to make it worse.

"Spoons?"

Toushiro swore. "Damnit, left them in the kitchen," he coughed weakly and shuffled back through the door.

Ichigo grimaced; trust Toushiro to try to take care of him while he was just as sick. He looked at the oatmeal in the mug and swished it around; he was supposed to be the one taking care of his boyfriend, not the other way around. Toushiro returned moments later with two spoons and a pack of flu medicine. He climbed into bed next to Ichigo and plopped one of the spoons into his mug.

"Thanks, babe," Ichigo slurred and took a spoonful. It tasted like paper, warm, mushy paper, but felt soothing against his sore throat.

"Yeah, your lazy butt wasn't getting up to make breakfast. Don't mention it," Toushiro mumbled through a few bites.

Ichigo's chuckle turned into a couple coughs. "Do you feel any better, though?"

"No, but don't feel like throwing up anymore. It's some improvement, I suppose."

They both soon realised that eating with a stuffed noses wasn't a pleasant experience. They had to stop chewing every so often to breathe between bites or roughly blow their nose into a tissue, only to have it blocked again in a matter of seconds.

"Hate being sick," Toushiro groaned, throwing himself back into the pillows.

"Tell me about it," Ichigo agreed and lay down next to him. He felt his eyelids start to droop; they had taken a few pills after eating, and curled up on his side. Toushiro looked like he had already drifted off to sleep, but he sighed in frustration and weakly punched his pillow.

"What are we supposed to do now? The both of us have never been sick at the same time."

"Let's hope we don't die, then."

Toushiro rolled onto his side to glare at the redhead.

"Jus sleep it off," Ichigo mumbled, feeling the medicine start to work.

Toushiro coughed weakly and rolled into the curve of Ichigo's body and shortly after they both feel asleep.

...

Ichigo woke up a bit later feeling as if an arctic wind was blowing through the room. He blindly groped for the blankets and pulled them up to his shoulders, but he was still cold. He vaguely registered a small pair of legs frantically trying to kick them off again before he drifted back to sleep. A few minutes barely passed before he felt the frigid breeze again and violent shivers ran through his body, his teeth were even chattering. He reached around for the covers, finding them strewn over his feet and pulled them back up. He heard Toushiro groan and tug them away.

"No," he moaned, pulling them back over his head. "Cold,"

"Hot," Toushiro muttered. He kicked off the blankets again and rolled as far away from Ichigo as he could without tumbling off of the bed. Ichigo wrapped himself up in a cocoon and fell back asleep.

He woke up again to tiny hands tugging at the blankets around him. He cracked open a bleary eye to see Toushiro attempting to unwrap an edge from around his shoulders.

"Cold?" he rasped.

Toushiro nodded. Ichigo sighed and unfurled himself from his cocoon of warmth and threw the blankets over Toushiro as well. They slept for a few more minutes before Ichigo started to feel incredibly hot. He slowly extracted himself from the blankets and tried to get back to sleep, but his stuffed nose had different plans for him. He reached to the night stand for the box of tissues, but found that it was empty. He sighed heavily wondering if it was worth it get a new box or just suffer and breathe through his mouth instead. But as his mouth began to feel dry he growled softly and rolled out of bed.

The floor felt like ice against his bare feet, but he was in no mood to go looking for socks as well. The second he stumbled out of the bedroom he was met by Olaf. The Great Dane looked at him in puzzlement before nuzzling his hand as if sensing that he was sick. Ichigo grinned and scratched his head and his tail thumped heavily against his leg. He hoped that Toushiro had walked him this morning and he wasn't in for any surprises, but knowing his boyfriend he had most likely pushed himself out of bed just to walk the dog. Olaf didn't seem too distressed so he assumed that that's what had happened. He shook his head. Once again Toushiro ended up being the responsible one. So much for taking care of him.

He grabbed a new box of tissues from the closet in the hallway, but saw the time from the living room clock. It was almost three in the afternoon. He sighed, he probably should eat something considering they slept passed lunch, but he wasn't hungry at all. Still, he made more soup, warmed a few bread rolls in the oven, and tossed a few treats to Olaf. The dog was following his every move and Ichigo wondered if it was because he was stumbling all over the kitchen or if this was just an elaborate form of begging for food. He leaned against the marble island as the pounding behind his eyes began to increase and tore open the box of tissues. He blew his nose a few times, but that caused him to feel even dizzier. He groaned and ran a hand down his face. Olaf whined softly and jumped up to rest his front paws on the counter next to Ichigo. He sniffed his face before licking his nose. Ichigo grimaced, but found himself smiling and patted the dog's neck.

"You're lucky you can't get the flu," he murmured. Olaf wagged his tail. "Yeah, don't rub it in."

"What are you doing?" Toushiro appeared in the doorway with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, half of it still dragged on the floor.

"Making lunch."

"Is it that time already?" he sighed and climbed up on a stool on the other side of the island. "You should have woken me up."

"It's just soup, besides you're sick; you shouldn't have to take care of me."

"You're sick too."

"Well you were sick first, so I'm going to take care of you and make sure you get better."

"You're sicker than I am."

"No, I'm not. Who's the one with the blanket?"

Toushiro rolled his eyes. "Fine, by all means, finish making lunch."

Ichigo smiled and turned back to the pot on the stove. Toushiro watched him silently for a while before deciding to make some tea. Usually when they were both in the kitchen they moved around each other like it was some sort of dance. Now, Ichigo stepped on Toushiro's blanket a few times and Toushiro bumped into Ichigo when passing behind him.

"I don't like this; our dynamic is off," Ichigo muttered and leaned back against the island after pouring out two bowls.

Toushiro snorted. "You step on my blanket one more time and I'm throwing this hot tea on you."

Ichigo tried to look offended but with a red nose and eyes he wasn't sure how effective the look was. "It's only because I'm sick. You can't get mad at me for that."

"I can get mad at you if I want to."

Ichigo chuckled and pulled Toushiro into a one-armed hug. "Let's just eat this soup and see if we feel any better, huh?"

They sat next to each other on the island and Ellie appeared from somewhere near Toushiro's feet and jumped on to the counter and eyed their lunch hungrily. Toushiro dipped his fingertips into the liquid and let her lick them clean. Ichigo shook his head in exasperation. Toushiro told him that he spoiled the pets, but it was the small _shinigami_ who really did all the spoiling.

"That's why she's such a princess," Ichigo muttered, "don't feed her from your bowl."

Toushiro grinned in reply.

...

As evening rolled around they found themselves lounging on the couch flipping through the TV channels. Ichigo still felt very sluggish and a bit achy but with the help of medicine and a long hot bath – with his boyfriend – he felt much better. He was leaning against the armrest with his legs stretched along the seat while Toushiro was snuggled between his thighs with his head against his chest. Ichigo noticed with a smile that Olaf and Ellie almost mirrored their position on the floor. Ellie was curled up in between Olaf's front paws and the dog had his chin propped up on the coffee table, his tail thumping softly against the floor.

"What are you smiling at?" Toushiro asked, craning his neck to look at his boyfriend.

"Us, the pets..." he answered.

Toushiro raised an eyebrow.

"They resemble us, don't you think?"

"No that again, Ichigo, I don't look like Ellie."

"Yes, you do; your hair and your eyes match and you're both moody."

Toushiro grumbled, "Then in that case you're an annoying goofball like Olaf."

"Yes, but look at how much Ellie likes him; she even grooms him sometimes. You've got to admit that there are parallels."

"Is that the fever talking?"

Ichigo chuckled and pecked the top of Toushiro's head. "You love me; don't deny it, Shiro."

Toushiro sighed and coughed softly, "Whatever you say, Kurosaki."

Ichigo smiled and ran a hand through Toushiro's hair. "Hopefully we'll be better tomorrow."

"We'll see."

"Or at least, I'll be better and finally get a chance to take care of you."

"Are you wishing me sick?"

"No, of course not, I just want to-"

"Okay, Ichigo, I'll let you make breakfast and walk Olaf tomorrow."

"And lunch?"

"... And lunch."

"What about dinner?"

"Don't push it; I'm not going to let you do everything for me."

Ichigo chuckled and placed a light kiss on the crown of Toushiro's head.

"We'll see how it goes tomorrow. If you're not out of bed before me then I call making breakfast."

"That's not fair; you get up at the crack of dawn."

"I never said I was going to make things easy for you."

Ichigo sighed, "You never do, Shiro, you never do."

* * *

**Because why not? Sickfics are cute :)**

**Leave a review if you please. **

**-Mymomo**


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